


Lunar Effect

by cognomen, MayGlenn



Series: A Very Supernatural Starsky & Hutch [4]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Baby Werewolves, Babysitting, Bestiality if Werewolves Count (Mentioned), Break Up, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Internalized Homophobia, Kink Negotiation, Leprechauns, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Relationship Problems, Rimming, Werewolf Culture, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cognomen/pseuds/cognomen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn
Summary: “I don’t know why I put up such a fuss, honestly,” Hutch explains in frustration the morning of the full moon, when he’s trying to fix a lamp his wolf self demolished trying to chase Starsky around his house the previous night. “It’s not like he’s missed you all day. He’s me.”"I don’t get it either. I mean, I don’t think we’ve been apart for longer than the length of a shower these last couple weeks. Isn’t it supposed to be ‘lone wolf’ as the stereotype?”“Couldn't be further from the truth,” Hutch says, and gives up on the lamp, or what can be done with it before work. “Well. Anyway, the pups are small, so you'll probably be fine tonight. Except I'll be there, too.”“You’re supposed to go out and run around with all the other wolves,” Starsky reminds, like one would a kid at the playground. “I don’t want the other moms to think of me as as overbearing.”





	1. Chapter 1

They don’t get to attend Early’s trial, because the werewolves’ relationship with the mages is not  _ that  _ good, but Dobey explains the situation to them a little better—if not to Starsky’s satisfaction than at least to Hutch’s. A criminal justice system that appears to operate like their own, even if it doesn’t really have its own Internal Review and is controlled by fewer people, is not the hill Starsky wants to die on today. 

As the weeks until the full moon wear on, they settle into a routine of spending about every other night together, alternating houses to keep up appearances, and Hutch makes sure the wolf gets plenty of Starsky’s time, too. 

“I don’t know why I put up such a fuss, honestly,” Hutch explains in frustration the morning of the full moon, when he’s trying to fix a lamp his wolf self demolished trying to chase Starsky around his house the previous night. “It’s not like he missed you all day. He’s  _ me _ . I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?” 

Starsky, a little sore from all the roughhousing, isn’t about to admit it. He just keeps handing Hutch pieces of the lamp. “No, I’m not hurt, but I don’t get it either. I mean, I don’t think we’ve been apart for longer than the length of a shower these last couple weeks. Isn’t it supposed to be ‘lone wolf’ as the stereotype?”

“Couldn't be further from the truth,” Hutch says, and gives up on the lamp, or what can be done with it before work. “Well. Anyway, the pups are small, so you'll probably be fine tonight. Except I'll be there, too. But you never know, I  _ might  _ behave in public.”

“You’re supposed to go out and run around with all the other wolves,” Starsky reminds, like one would a kid at the playground. “I don’t want the other moms to think of me as as overbearing.”

Hutch rolls his eyes but blushes at Starsky’s teasing. “Dobey asked us  _ both  _ to babysit, so that’s what I’m gonna do. Gotta wean myself off slowly.” 

The day is pretty routine, for all that they have to go in early so they can leave early. Dobey is even what you might consider nice to them—for Dobey—which means he doesn’t say anything when Starsky steals one of his donuts, and Hutch the other. 

...

“We should take my car tonight,” Hutch says. “Some of the younger wolves can get a little rowdy with new cars and we don’t always catch ‘em.” 

“Is  _ that _ what’s wrong with your car?” Starsky wonders, sounding mortified. “Yeah, we’ll definitely take yours.”

“No, it’s just, it doesn’t matter  _ if  _ they go to town on it,” Hutch laughs, opening the door for Starsky, cueing the blaring horn. 

Starsky winces when they get in, until Hutch closes the driver’s side door and the horn stops going off. He has to change where he’s sitting on the seat because a spring is jabbing him, but he finds a place to sit, scooting over. “They’re not gonna get that rowdy with  _ me _ , are they? One wolf is pretty intense.” 

“Ahh, no, no, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Hutch hedges, not sure how to reveal that  _ he’s _ just overly-affectionate, and just with Starsky. Most of the wolves will probably treat him like wolves ordinarily treat humans, which is with healthy reservation. The pups will be all over him, of course, but kids love Starsky anyway, and he’s used to that. “I think you’ll be okay.”  

“I’m sure I will,” Starsky agrees, leaning back to get comfortable. “But I’m glad we have tomorrow off. Gonna be a long night. Is there a place for us to catch some sleep tomorrow morning or should I hold off until we get to go back home?”

“Oh, yeah, there’s beds, dorm-style. Kinda like being back in the Academy. Anyway, most of the kids should sleep  _ some _ . Usually someone with thumbs puts some cartoons on—something with cats, and they fall asleep in piles. It’s probably the cutest thing you’ll ever see.” 

It’s a bit of drive out to the rec center—it always seems longer when Hutch drives—and they see a familiar face outside, along with his mother. 

“Hey, Kiko!” Hutch calls, and then turns to Starsky. “Uhh, I  _ did  _ tell you the Ramoses are werewolves, right?” 

“No, you neglected to mention that until this point,” Starsky says, but he greets Kiko and his mother warmly anyway, and then Captain Dobey and Edith, and when he’s swept up into it it  _ is _ a bit like a family reunion. It leaves Starsky wondering something, even as he hoists Rosie into his arms before she climbs him like a jungle gym. 

“Sorry, buddy,” Hutch says, squeezing his shoulder as Rosie tugs excitedly on his lapel:

“Uncle Dave! Uncle Ken! You’re here! Today’s the big day!” 

“You mean for your big brother?” Hutch asks. 

“No, silly!” she says, waving a hand like her brother’s business is vastly underwhelming. “We’re gonna have a puppy tea party!” 

Edith takes Rosie from Starsky’s arms, explaining, “ _ Every _ full moon for the past few months is ‘puppy tea party.’ Good to see you, David. We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Hey,” Starsky asks Hutch, when they have a moment where he can catch him aside. “How come your actual family doesn’t come to these things? You said you were born a werewolf, which means they must be, too, right?”

“Yeah, well they’re still up in Minnesota,” Hutch explains, as they settle near where people have brought an array of potluck items—mostly meat. It’s still early, and people are still arriving. “New place, new pack. I go back and visit occasionally, but this is—kinda like my new family.”

“I see,” Starsky says, looking over the whole gathering with a fond smile. 

Hutch ruffles the hair on the back of Starsky’s neck—he can’t really help it—though this is really no more physical than they usually get with each other—and grins. “Like you are.” 

“Well, not quite, but pretty close,” Starsky agrees, leaning into Hutch’s touch, watching the kids set up a fancy tea party at a low table on the floor. The cups are all plastic and the tea smells like really sweet flowers, but the kids all seem to be enjoying it, even the boys, though they pretend not to, at least for the excuse of eating all the fancy cookies laid out. 

Rosie comes back pretty quickly to recruit ‘Uncle Dave’ for her tea party, and Starsky obliges, even allowing them to correct him into lifting his pinkie finger as he drinks. 

Kiko jogs Hutch’s elbow while the little kids are having their tea party. He giggles, “So you told Starsky? I was wondering when that would happen!”  

Hutch smiles. “Yeah, I guess I should have told him a lot earlier, huh? Say, when’s your first hunt? Coming up soon here, right?” 

“I turn thirteen in September,” Kiko informs him, proudly. 

“Well, that’s good. I’m gonna need your help making sure the little pups don’t wear Starsky out too much tonight, got it?” 

Kiko giggles again. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Hey, are those your mom’s tamales…?”

“Uncle Dave?” Rosie asks, to get his attention, and then leans up to whisper in Starsky’s ear, “are you an’ Uncle Ken gonna get married now?” 

She knew the pattern, after all. When people brought friends to full moon, they usually got married. 

“Well,” Starsky laughs, trying to put things as delicately as he can, but then again…why did this need to be any harder than it had to be? He can answer her question honestly. “Not  _ now _ , anyway. We’re still working on it.”

Which is the truth, as far as he needs to answer this question. He carefully redirects. “So, it’s Cal’s big day, huh? Kinda like a birthday?”

“Yeah,” she says, and hugs Starsky’s arm. “But  _ I _ get presents!” 

Apparently, Starsky and Hutch were far superior company to her brother. She reaches up to whisper in Starsky’s ear again. “If you don’t marry Uncle Ken, I’ll marry you when I’m older.” 

“Boy,” Starsky says, laughing. “Uh, I guess we’ll see, huh?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Starsk,” Hutch calls, giving him an out, “c’mere, there’s a few people I’d like you to meet.” 

Hutch is standing with two young women and one man, who he begins to introduce to Starsky: “Starsk, these are the folks I told you about: Janet, Laura, and Steve—partners of some of the werewolves here. So you’ll have some people to talk to when—well, in about thirty minutes.” 

“Hi,” Starsky says, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed. It was fine when it was just a bunch of kids, but now he was firmly in the ‘wife’ category of the babysitting group, though at least he’s not alone, given that Steve looks relieved to not be the only guy anymore, either. “It’s uh, nice to meet you. I’m David Starsky, I know uh, I guess a lot of these folks now.”

Steve extends a hand first. “Steve Foley,” he says. My wife's Linda, she's getting changed. We're realtors, if you're looking to buy a home or condo.”

“Janet is dating Anderson, from the precinct,” Hutch explains, “and Laura's husband is Don over here eating a third cheeseburger.”

“I know that's a whirlwind of names,” Janet laughs. “There'll be a quiz later.”

“You can spot us in a crowd easy,” Laura says, giggling. “In a few minutes we'll be the tallest people in the room!”

“Boy, you know I’m normally pretty good with names, but it’s an unusual situation,” Starsky admits, with a shrug, after shaking everyone’s hand. “I’m glad I’m gonna have some backup. Hutch is a handful, I can only imagine what it’s like with a bunch of babies with paws.”

As if on cue, the tea-table is upset by the kids starting to change into roly-poly wolf pups, and immediately engaging in roughhouse.

“Okay,” Hutch says, going over to try to separate some of them, and to help separate others from their clothes. “Who started this? It isn't even  _ time  _ yet.”

Some of the adults are wearing bathrobes, and some have already begun to change. Hutch checks his watch and takes it off. “I'm gonna go put my clothes down in one of the rooms for us. Be right back.”

Leaving Starsky alone in a room where he's quickly outnumbered.

Being the new guy in the room, it’s cause for immediate investigation by the group of puppies; at least in general, they’re a little bit better about nipping too hard than some regular puppies Starsky has met, and after a few moments of practically getting climbed, he surrenders and sits down on the floor, triggering an excited chorus of barks and yips before he’s overrun. 

“So we hear you took it very well,” Janet says, as if the whole scene were commonplace. “I almost fainted when I heard, and then I didn’t believe it until I saw it.”

“Well, I kind of knew something was up,” Starsky manages. “But I just thought he had a secret dog or something.”

This triggers a chorus of laughter, and then a round of enthusiastic howling breaks out amongst the pups. If Starsky knows anything about kids, he knows the next hour is going to be all but bedlam. 

Hutch returns to Starsky being swarmed, and it's partially wanting to be a good role model and partially wanting Starsky for himself that he helps extricate him from the pile of puppies he's currently under, grabbing one or two by the scruffs of their necks. Kiko, wanting to be helpful and to seem more grown-up, also helps, and engages a few in a game of chase to distract them. 

They leave Rosie where she is, preening like a pleased kitten on Starsky's knee. 

Dobey and Edith emerge, and each lick Starsky’s cheek once and do something similar to Hutch, but with more teeth, presumably as a thank you, before following young Cal out the door. Hutch watches the rest of the pack follow, and knows that this time next month he'll go with them, he'll  _ want  _ to go with them, but until then he wants to stay with Starsky and the pups. 

Hutch is the only adult wolf who's stayed behind today, so he supposes he will have his work cut out for him, except that Laura and Steve know what they're doing (mainly, how to spot a pup who's about to have an accident). And Starsky will learn, even if it's something of a trial by fire. A few of the other smaller pups are trying to climb on him again.

For the first few moments, Starsky isn’t quite sure how much liberty he’s supposed to take with other people’s kids, but they pretty much demand attention and to be pet and wrestled with, so he inevitably gives in and lets them set the tone, though he isn’t a pushover about it either.

“So you work with Hutchinson?” Steve asks, sweetly but naively: “I guess being partners in a police force is a lot like being married, huh?”

“Yeah,” Starsky says, not sure how much he should talk about, given how little he knows about these people and how they might react. “Well, I should say, we probably spend even more time together than most married people. I found out for sure when we got stuck too long on a stakeout. How ‘bout you, how’d you uh, get enlightened?”

“Oh, before we were married,” Steve said. “When we got engaged, you know, when it was serious….”

He launches into a much longer story that is really only interesting because the party has gone from about forty people to four. Hutch manages to pretend he's listening, though human language doesn't hold his attention very well in this form.

When the pups have tired of wrestling the new guy, they wrestle each other, a proceeding Hutch and Kiko watch over to make sure things don't get out of hand. Hutch licks Starsky's cheek once, in gratitude, and love, wanting him to know how much his presence is appreciated. 

Rosie, for her part, hasn't left Starsky’s side, except for some bacon, at one point, and when Janet ushered a troop of them out to go potty and run around in the moonlit grass outside. She always promptly returned to him and whined to be picked up or held. 

“What’s the matter, kiddo?” Starsky wonders, obliging her constantly.

“She must have a crush,” Janet says, grinning at Starsky. “It almost gets worse in wolf-form.”

Reaching up to scratch behind Hutch’s ears entices a tiny growl from Rosie, and Starsky rolls his eyes and puts her down on the ground. “Okay, that’s it. Everybody go play somewhere else.”

He gives Hutch a shove, too, but the wolf crawls into Starsky’s lap possessively once Rosie isn’t occupying it anymore. 

“This is getting silly.” 

It is, but wolf-Hutch doesn't care, and when Rosie does toddle back for some of Starsky’s attention, Hutch is clear with her with a low rumble that they'll share. She seems to accept this, at least in the way that Starsky is beginning to recognize Hutch will always listen to Dobey. A hierarchy thing. Hutch settles on one knee and Rosie on the other, though Hutch gets up periodically to check on the pups and walk the perimeter. 

“So how long have you two known each other? He's always talked about you,” Janet says, sounding vaguely like she has a clue and suspects Starsky’s relationship with Hutch is something more than work-partner. She has brought Starsky a beer and some popcorn. “Did you move here with Hutch?”

“No, I’ve been here since I was a kid, uh, after a brief stint overseas,” Starsky says, with a shrug. He accepts the popcorn gratefully, and has a few sips of beer, before he has to go back to paying attention to the wolves. “Thank you very much. We were partners in academy, then again when we got from being assigned to a senior partner off to beat on our own. By then I’d started to figure it out so I think Hutch was supposed to keep an eye on me.”

Janet laughs. “It is kind of creepy, isn’t it? I tell Roger this all the time. It’s like marrying into the mob!” 

Hutch whines and gives her a very skeptical look. 

“Oh, you know what I mean,” she tells him, but then she has to get up and help Kiko break up a puppy scuffle. 

“The D is worth it, though,” Laura says, sitting down with them. 

Steve sighs loudly, like this happens a lot. “ _ Okay _ , I’m out. Starsky, you want to come have a smoke?” 

“I’m sorry, the— _ what _ ?” Starsky asks, intrigued in spite of himself. 

“You  _ know _ ,” Laura says, grinning at Steve.

“You really don’t want to,” Steve laughs. “I’ll be right outside when you need to run away.”

“I mean, when they get  _ wild _ in bed,” Laura continues, unashamed.

Janet and Laura seem thrilled by this discussion, red-faced and giggling, but Hutch gives them a withering stare and gets up with a huff. Maybe  _ he  _ needs a cigarette. 

“Oh,  _ they  _ don’t like it, of course,” Janet says. 

“It’s a taboo, I think,” Laura offers. “Or something. They  _ say  _ they don’t like it.”

“I think they protest too much.” 

“I mean, there have to be  _ some _ perks!” 

Starsky follows behind all this at a painfully slow speed before he finally catches on. “Is that really possible?”

“Sure,” Laura grins. “I mean, it took some getting used to, but it’s still just my husband in there.  Honestly, it was like he needed it both ways before he could be satisfied that I was really okay with him.”

“The wolf part feels left out,” Janet laughs. “And it really is…well, I mean there’s perks.”

They both look at Starsky expectantly, perhaps waiting for him to confirm or deny the nature of his relationship with Hutch, and all he can manage is ‘Huh.’ He tries to consider the whole thing and then decides  _ that’s _ something he needs to ask Hutch about. Maybe they’re just hazing him, anyway. 

“I know,” Laura laughs wickedly. “I kinda like it, now that I’ve tried it.”

Luckily, most of the wolf pups don’t seem to be interested in the conversation, and Hutch is a little more standoffish now, finding other things to do. 

This includes ushering the smaller pups into beds when they get too fussy. The older ones hassle Steve into turning on the TV and flicking through the channels until the consensus of howling tells him to stop. It’s a commercial for cat food, which commands their rapt attention—even Hutch’s—and transitions into a Western of some kind. Hutch arranges pillows for them, barks the werewolf equivalent of ‘down in front!’ at a few, and then flops down again next to Starsky. 

Rosie has fallen asleep in his lap. 

Starsky settles down in a free space by the couch, pillowing Rosie in his lap comfortably and letting her sleep while he gently rubs Hutch’s neck, eventually getting sleepier as the night wears on, before he eventually drifts off with his head pillowed against Hutch’s side, watching TV. He wakes up a few hours later, to help the others get the kids into different beds now that they’re all sleeping, before he retreats into one of the bunks as well. 

Once everyone is asleep and wolves are starting to return—by about three in the morning—Hutch trots to the bunk he had claimed for Starsky and himself. He nudges the door open and pushes it mostly closed after him, and licks Starsky's cheek once.  _ Thank you. _

Starsky slings an arm around Hutch, and kisses him on the top of his head in return, ruffling his ears. “It wasn’t even as hard as I thought it was going to be, partner. We got this down. Next time, you can go out and run around with the boys.”

Hutch jumps up into the bed and smothers Starsky as is his wont, settling over the top of him and humming contentedly. He keeps his ears pricked until he’s sure the pack elders are back, and then he relaxes totally, licking the side of Starsky’s face and his hair, this time more of the grooming kind of licking. 

“Alright, alright,” Starsky says, finally, very wet, and wrestling Hutch into submission so he has to lick something other than Starsky’s face for a while. Hutch seems to settle for Starsky’s neck, which is fine. “So what those other people were saying out there…were they just rattling my cage, or is that something that really happens?” 

Hutch gives a low warning growl, and stops licking. He shifts slightly, and gets his elbows in where he knows they’ll dig into Starsky’s chest to shut him up. 

“Oof, alright, I get the hint,” Starsky sighs, getting his hands into the scruff of Hutch’s neck. “I’m going to sleep.”


	3. Chapter 3

There’s only so many hours Starsky can spend staring at a doorway before he starts to go a little batty, but at least this way he can sit down for once, instead of being crammed into a car for stakeout. Of course, he and Hutch have to be separated, but at least he has the radio, which after about forty-five minutes, Starsky starts making judicial use of.

It’s the only way to pass the time on a stakeout like this.

“So you came around last night again,” Starsky says, into the two-way. Of course he means  _ as a wolf _ , but he leaves that part unspoken. “Is there anything I should know about that?” 

Hutch is on the other side of the mansion, waiting for some mobsters to show up and make a deal with some leprechauns—which is just about as absurd as it sounds, but if you have endless pots of gold in 1975, you spend it on hookers and blow, apparently, no matter who you are—and he doesn’t answer Starsky for a moment. They’re supposed to be working, after all. 

“I missed you,” he says simply, even though they had spent the previous 36 hours together on a long shift and were back on it already again tonight, not 18 hours later. “Does a guy need a reason? You see anything?” 

“I see a big ugly house with a big ugly car in front of it,” Starsky answers. “It’s the same ugly car that’s been in the same spot for hours. And anyway, I only ask because  _ Laura _ says getting pushy like that is a sign that something’s not happening that should be.” 

Maybe a leprechaun could put an end to this conversation, but Starsky hasn’t been able to get a straight answer out of Hutch on the subject. 

“The girls were just winding you up, Starsk. I should have warned you about that. No action on this side, either.” Hutch thinks about what he just said. “I mean in the  _ house _ .” 

Starsky’s not so sure about that, but he lets it go quiet for a moment. “Well then what  _ do _ you want? You can’t possibly be lonely, we spend all our time together.”

Hutch sighs, loudly, into the radio. Starsky can’t see him, but he pinches his brow, glad that Starsky can’t see how the heat rises in his face. Finally, all he can say is, “It’s a werewolf thing. You wouldn’t understand.” 

Hutch knows Starsky hates those words, but he’s willing to risk Starsky’s annoyance to get him to just lay off. 

“Why are you so touchy about it?” Starsky pesters. “I mean, listen, nothing’s happening down there. You could try to explain to me what this wolf thing is all about so I could help you out.”

“Starsky, it just isn’t done, okay!” Hutch snaps, getting angry himself instead. Of course Starsky knows when he’s being baited and gets him right back. 

Hutch growls, worried he’s given himself away, but he stays quiet, and everything else around him is quiet, too. “What, you want me to admit it, or something? You’ll freak you out. If you don’t,  _ you’re  _ the lunatic.” 

Starsky goes quiet for a long time, thinking about it, watching the door. He guesses he could let it go, but… “I hate to be the one to point this out, partner, but just about everything about our relationship is something that just isn’t done, and that’s never really stopped us before.”

“ _ Starsky _ ,” Hutch begs, and maybe he’s about to crack, but then he sits up. “I’ve got a car, coming up from the east. Maybe they’re going to make a deal.” 

They  _ are _ about to make a deal, and Hutch waits until money and bags of coke have changed hands before he tells Starsky, “Now!” and they jump out of the brush with iron bullets in the chamber—which work just as well on leprechauns as on humans, if they needed to use them. 

“Stop, police!” 

It doesn’t do them much good when half their suspects just  _ vanish _ , leaving the mobsters quite literally holding the bags, and Starsky curses, but at least the mobsters give up easily, and he can get the cuffs on them. 

“Do you think they’ll come back for it?” Starsky asks Hutch as they shuffle their detainees into the cars. 

“You can’t prove  _ anything _ ,” the man in cuffs protests, and Starsky gives him an extra shove to get him into the car. 

“I think the pictures we took will hold up,” Hutch says, since they’ll use a little fairy dust to develop them. He hasn’t and will probably never admit  _ that  _ to his partner, and they book the gangsters without trouble. 

“See, now that they’ve been made here,” Hutch explains to Starsky once they’re back in the office filling out their late night paperwork, “the leprechauns have to find a new place, new faces, and it takes time and—whatever passes for resources in the fairy realm. They answer to their own people. The thing about them being hard to catch is true.” 

“Well, that makes sense,” Starsky says, with a sigh. “And it doesn’t seem like they’re letting any of the drugs they buy back out on the streets, at least. So … I mean it’s not great that they buy them, but they must be doing them all themselves. Is that a thing the Fae do?”

“I guess if you’re rich and immortal and omnipotent, you can kind of do whatever you want in your own...realm.” Hutch grins at Starsky, and, since they’re alone in the office, leans in to peck him on the cheek. “You know, for a guy who regularly has sex with another guy, you seem to have trouble saying the word ‘fairy.’ ‘Fae’ isn’t what they call themselves, even, not anymore.” 

“Your mother never taught you that the f-word was a bad one?” Starsky says, giving Hutch a little nudge. “You know, if you say it, you’re asking for it, right? You gotta put milk out on the stoop for a week or you’ll have nothing but bad luck and all your cream will curdle.”

“You half-Irish or something, now? Anyway, goat’s milk can’t curdle,” Hutch says with authority, though he doesn’t think that’s actually true. “If they haven’t cursed me yet for how many of their kind we keep running afoul of, they’re probably not going to bother.” 

“Don’t get complacent, that’s when they’ll get you,” Starsky laughs. 

Hutch leans back in and pulls Starsky into a deep kiss, because they’re alone in the office. “Well, handsome, my shift ends in five minutes. You want to get out of here?” 

“I haven’t forgot how you got all evasive earlier,” Starsky reminds, but he lets up on Hutch for now. “Sure, but beer’s on you this time, and I’ll meet you at my place?”

Hutch sighs, caught out. Maybe  _ he’s  _ enough of a masochist to back out of tonight on such an ultimatum, but Starsky deserves to know. “I won’t drink, in case you want to throw me out.” 

“Hutch,” Starsky says, frankly. “You’ve made it more than clear that I could back out of this conversation any time I wanted to, and yet here we are still having it. Do  _ you _ really not want to? ‘Cause we can just have beer and kick back if you’re really uncomfortable.”

Now Hutch’s pride is brought into it, he rallies, though he still sounds like a sullen teenager, or like he’s worried he’ll be made fun of. “No, I’m not. I mean, I am. I’ll tell you later.” 

It’s four in the morning, but they’re both awake enough when Hutch brings over beer he doesn’t drink, and finds that Starsky has gotten Greek takeout from a late-night place by his house. (“I would have brought wine if you told me.”) 

“You hear me complaining, partner?” Starsky says, grabbing a beer. He’s about to ask if Hutch wants to eat anything, or if he even wants to talk, when Hutch just goes for it: 

“Okay, so it’s not just that wolf-human sex is like, really kinky,” Hutch begins before he can stop himself, like he’s prepared this and will forget to say something if he doesn’t give his speech now. “Obviously. It’s like,  _ taboo _ -level. Even the werewolves who are into it don’t talk about it: Laura and Janet, they don’t get it, didn’t grow up with the stigma.” 

Hutch takes a breath and stands up, beginning to pace, leaving his food untouched on the table. “And, right, I get we’re already—this— _ me and thee _ —we’re already forbidden on two levels. No one gets to tell us how to love each other, right?” 

Now he’s growing nervous, his hands fidgeting in and out of different pockets. 

“Why?” Starsky asks, practically. He pops the top on a beer, letting the hiss and fizz break up some of the big block of silence that Hutch seems to think should follow all this. “I mean, why is it taboo? I get why it’s kinky or whatever, but…is it because you guys can’t consent as wolves, or will it turn you into a monster like the movies? Or is it like the werewolf version of gay?”

“Not—I mean, yes and no,” Hutch hedges.  _ He's  _ not the one Starsky should be worried about. He relaxes enough to chuckle: “We're already the werewolf version of gay, Starsk.”

Starsky passes the first beer he’d opened to Hutch, and then opens one of his own and takes a long drink. “If you don’t wanna, that’s okay. I’m not trying to pressure you or anything, I don’t want you to think that. I’m just curious why it seems like such a big deal for you.”

Hutch sets the beer aside, too agitated to drink. “That's the  _ problem _ , I  _ want _ to. Or the wolf does. But, but, yeah, I mean, there's problems. It's consent, kinda, if you want to call it that. The wolf knows  _ want it _ and  _ don't want it _ , and respects my wishes and his and the partner's, but he's not really able to get nuance, right? You can't tell a werewolf ‘yes, but only oral tonight.’ You can't get a condom on a werewolf. That's how Nancy and I—”

Hutch sits, with a massive sigh. “I don't see what the appeal is. You can't kiss or talk or laugh, no touching, the teeth are lethal, my cock just gets— _ bigger _ —it's—and I'm sorry, it's my problem and not yours and this is why I didn't even want to tell you!”

Hutch realizes he's shouting, near hysterical, and panting. 

Starsky just reaches out and pulls Hutch close and hugs him, pulls his head against his chest. “Hey, hey, okay. Okay, no need to get so upset, Hutch. I can let it go, if that’s what you want, but I always thought we did better at problems together than trying to keep it all separate.”

Hutch is still huffing, almost a wolf sound, or a sound like he's trying not to cry, but he relaxes against Starsky’s insistent embrace. “I don't know what to do. This is how I got mixed up with Nancy and part of why I lost Vanessa.”

This is more than Hutch has ever said about his ex-wives. He tries a deep breath. “I don't want to lose you, Starsk.”

He thinks, but doesn't say,  _ Maybe we should be just friends again.  _ But if anyone is ever going to end this relationship, Hutch vows, it won't be him. 

“You aren’t gonna lose me,” Starsky reassures Hutch. “Sure as heck not over this, okay? Things are okay the way they are right now, so if that’s the way you want ‘em to stay, that’s the way they can stay. Right? Me and thee. All I wanted to know was how we should figure this out, and I’m okay with letting you set the course on this one.”

He takes Hutch’s hand, holds onto it until they both feel stronger. “C’mon, eat your dinner. You’ll feel better.”

Hutch does feel better when he eats. He should listen to Starsky more often. 

“It's good,” he says softly, halfway through their meal. “Thanks.”

There's more to talk about, like how they're gonna get the wolf to calm down, but maybe he'll just give up eventually. They finish their beers and wash dishes together, and tumble into Starsky's waterbed at first light and think no more about it. 


	4. Chapter 4

It's not exactly a surprise when Hutch wakes up, a few days from a full moon, rimming his partner. It's a little odd that he slept through waking up and deciding to do this, or was so sleepy he didn't remember, but Starsky is sleeping face down and his legs are spread so wantonly (and okay, because it's hot out) and before Hutch knows what he's doing he's just got his face buried in there, tongue working at relaxing the ring of muscle like he can't get enough, like he's the slutty one. Maybe he'll fuck him, maybe he'll see if Starsky will come just from this. Hutch is really, oddly, enjoying this, rubbing himself off on the sheets. He could do this all day, like it’s a compulsion. 

Starsky wakes up groaning, apparently from a good dream into this even better reality. He gasps; it feels amazing, like Hutch’s tongue is  _ everywhere _ , lapping over him enthusiastically  until Starsky has to shift and lift his hips to give him even better access. He grips the pillow, pushing his face into it, mumbling. “ _ Hutch _ .”

Starsky’s voice is strained and sweet, and Hutch licks, licks, licks in response. Hutch wants to just plow into him, take him just like this, in the early morning before the moon goes down, really  _ mate  _ him, knot him—

_ Oh, shit, wait _ —

There’s just something about how much tongue there is that eventually tickles Starsky’s mind the same way things do when he gets a hunch. When Hutch hesitates, the hot breath against his wet skin feels like more than he expects. Starsky sits up, turns over, and comes face to face with the wolf version of his boyfriend—doing the same thing Hutch had been adamant they shouldn’t do. 

For a moment, they both blink at each other, and Starsky can see the panic in Hutch’s eyes as he comes to more of himself than his wolf-self. “Hutch, hey. It’s okay.”

_ No, no, it isn’t! _ Hutch screams inside his head, inside the wolf’s body,  _ What am I doing? What the fuck have I done? _ and he actually yelps like someone stepped on his tail and falls off the bed. 

He comes up in human form, stammering and backing out of the room, trying to cover himself and apologize. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Starsky, I—I need to go right now. I need to leave. I’m sorry.” 

He practically dives for his clothes in an attempt to get out the door. It’s not just the taboo, it’s that he could have  _ hurt  _ Starsky if things had gotten any further, and he’s  _ mortified _ , grabbing his boots and his keys. He’s never been so embarrassed by his other self, never wished so hard that he could just stop being a werewolf, never change again. 

“Hutch!” Starsky shouts after him, struggling to find at least a pair of his pants on the floor. He’s never seen Hutch move so fast, his normally laid back partner bolting for the door as soon as he’s got his backside covered, and a fistfull of clothes that  _ might _ be his. “Hutch, slow down, we can talk about this, right?”

Wrong, apparently. Hutch hits the door before Starsky has more than one leg of his pants on, and sloshed off his waterbed after him, and then by the time Starsky manages to get after him, tripping on his own coffee table, he hears the car start outside and then take off, and all he can do is peer helplessly out his screen door after him.

_ Well,  _ Starsky thinks, hoisting his pants onto his hips as he watches the car drive away.  _ I’d hate to be the one to have to tell him we’re both on shift in an hour. _

…

When they meet again for their shift, Hutch has showered and changed his clothes and looks oddly put-together, almost military. It’s a good look on him, though it’s obviously designed to  _ un _ impress Starsky, dressed more like a conservative prep than a progressive Californian.  _ He’s  _ wearing a ton of cologne, today, and is chewing flavorful gum that he replaces when the flavor fades.  _ If Sally knew, or Dobey found out, _ Hutch thinks,  _ I’m finished _ . 

“Hey, partner. Your car today?” Hutch asks in the break room, like they just met up there after eight to eighteen hours apart, like they used to do every day of their lives back when their relationship was functional and not some kind of pipe-dream. He should have known, this was going to be Nancy all over again, he should have known!

“Guess so,” Starsky says, taking in the whole performative attitude of Hutch and his gum-chewing with an unimpressed air and a confused expression. It doesn’t make him feel any better that Hutch just  _ ran out _ like that, like Starsky was someone impossible to talk to or who wouldn’t understand. Now he’s doing his best to dig a moat between them. Starsky picks up his case files and almost throws them in the trash instead of his barely-touched donut.

“What kinda cases we got today?” Hutch asks him, all business, when they’re settled in the car, and he’s carefully going over the files. He hasn’t met Starsky’s eyes yet. 

“Huh?” Starsky sounds like he’s never heard of a case before in his life, before he realizes what Hutch actually is asking, and he tries to make his eyes focus on the list. Wordlessly, he hands them over, and notes how careful Hutch is about touching him. “I guess this means we’re not talking about it?”

Of course Starsky deserves an apology, and he’s been too cowardly to deliver one. Starsky deserves a lot better than that. A lot better than Hutch, clearly. 

“No, I—I’m sorry. I just, ah…” Hutch dares to let his gaze track to Starsky’s, and sees the hurt there—Starsky was always honest and open with his feelings, and Hutch admired him for it. “I...owe you an apology. Several. For, ah. This morning.” 

He winces: he can’t even  _ say  _ it.

“For...coming on to you in a totally inappropriate way, entirely without your consent. And—and without my own, in a way. I—Starsk, I’m  _ so sorry _ .” 

Starsky gives Hutch a long look. He hadn’t  _ asked _ for an apology, but he knows right away that it’s not for him that Hutch is apologizing. He’s afraid of something in himself, something he thinks might hurt other people, an aspect of himself he doesn’t like. And when he reaches for Hutch’s hand to comfort him, Hutch pulls away. Starsky’s mouth pulls up in a displeased line, a grimace of frustration, and then he jams the keys in the ignition.

“Apology accepted,” he says, turning the car on. Two can play this game, he guesses. “What’s on the list?”

Hutch has more to say, probably, but this is probably better. Like if they ignore it, it’ll go away, rather than trying to tell a fully-grown adult army veteran that he’s worried about hurting him, which will probably end in them breaking things off. 

“There’s an uptick in cocaine dealing down by the docks, we could cruise around there, lean on some of our guys,” Hutch suggests, already reaching for his snitch book. 

“Yeah, okay.” 

...

They get a surprising amount of work done before they clock out, like the only way to avoid each other is through keeping busy on cases, but somehow the day also drags on interminably. 

Hutch doesn’t even have to uninvite himself to Starsky’s after, or make something up, as Starsky seems mad at him, and rightly so. 

“H-have a good night,” he ventures toward the Torino’s open windows. 

Starsky actually pauses, leaning back against the driver’s seat, putting his arm over the empty passenger seat and looking at Hutch through the open window, giving him an opportunity to go on, to take it all back and come work things out. 

But the silence stretches on and Hutch has nothing to say, so Starsky sighs, rubs his cheek, and then drives back home alone. He locks the door and turns off his porch light, and tells himself he won’t answer any scratching at his door. 

The scratching on the door doesn’t come, tonight or the next night, following a day even more stilted and awkward than the last, and the night after, it’s the full moon. 

“Starsky,” Hutch says when they’re about to go their separate ways again, still sitting in Starsky’s car. “I—I don’t want to ask you to come tonight: I know Dobey and Edith would want to see you, but I could make excuses for you. That’s—it’s whatever you want. But you’re invited, and not just by me.” 

He’d been adopted into the pack, after all, and nothing about Starsky and Hutch’s relationship status would change that.  

Starsky considers saying no, and what that would mean. Then he shakes it off, and decides it’ll be good to stop moping around his house. Things have got to start to normalize sometime.

“Yeah,” Starsky says. “I’ll come, I can stay with the kids. You go out.”

It’s more an order than a suggestion, and Starsky thinks of the matter as settled. He doesn’t know what to expect from the wolf half of Hutch, but he supposes they have to work this part out, too. Besides, maybe if he pretends hard enough that things are okay they’ll start to fall into line. 

Hutch nods, grateful, absurdly grateful. He knows the pack will take care of Starsky, even though he clearly can’t. There’s something else. 

“I was wondering if—I think I might—it might get my head on straight, you know, if I—if I kinda let, ah. Shit.” This is coming entirely too close to  _ talking about it _ , and they’re doing pretty good just ignoring it. There is no non-douchey way to ask what he’s about to ask, if they were normal, if they were humans, but he’s not, he’s half-animal so the rules are different, and maybe he doesn’t strictly owe Starsky this but because they haven’t even broken up or anything he wants to be perfectly clear. So he blurts it out before he can chicken out: “I think I should have sex with someone else. As a wolf. To get it out of his system.” 

There, he said it. Douchey, and he knows it. Asking for permission to cheat on your boyfriend is probably worse than begging for forgiveness, right? Like a premeditated versus a crime of passion. 

Starsky’s whole expression closes down. He goes dark and unreadable, but he doesn’t fight about it. There it was, plain and simple. Hutch is a werewolf, and Starsky knows that not only is their relationship nonproductive in the traditional manner, werewolves belong with werewolves. It is, after all, how little werewolves are made. It doesn’t make it any less the end of what Starsky had been enjoying as a deeper relationship than any he’d had in a long time.

Obviously, it didn’t work for both of them, which was heartbreaking in and of itself. He doesn’t know what to do with the information that the best relationship of his life was clearly such a bad one for the other half of it. 

“I changed my mind,” Starsky says, “I suddenly don’t feel so good. Tell the pack I’ll see them next month. And do what you want.”

The walk to his car is stiff-legged and he does his best to keep his dignity until he gets there, until he gets  _ home _ , and even he feels like he wants to tear his skin off so he goes out for his own wander, and gets lost in a club with loud music until he feels like he can finally sleep; which he does in the back of his car, someplace unfindable. 

Hutch kicks himself the way he just lets Starsky go like that, without either of them putting up a fight. Maybe with apathy is the only way they each know how to really hurt the other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course we won't end it like that...subscribe to the series!


End file.
